


Are you flirting with me?

by Ms_Julius



Series: Tumblr Prompts (SINF) [1]
Category: The Secrets of the Immortal Nicholas Flamel - Michael Scott
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-11
Updated: 2018-08-11
Packaged: 2019-06-25 21:37:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15649401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ms_Julius/pseuds/Ms_Julius
Summary: Machiavelli and Dee are strolling through the streets of Paris until something catches Englishman's eyes.





	Are you flirting with me?

**Author's Note:**

> This was an anonymous prompt from Tumblr, so I thought I might post it here as well.

They had been walking along the main streets of Paris for some time now, the sun beginning to set behind their backs as they rounded a corner and made their way past the small group of people standing in the crossing. All around them were herds of tourists with their flashing cameras and locals trying to push through the dense swarms of bodies blocking their path. It was an end of a day, and even though the shops and occasional street stalls were closing in for a night, there were still large amount of people strolling across the city.

They were waiting for a phone call. Their masters had made it clear that missing this particular one would have severe consequences, so as the two men wandered over the streets in an aimless fashion, their ears were listening closely to the silent beeps of the cell.

“Care to explain to me why we’re taking a scenery route instead of settling this in your office?” The English magician was starting to grow impatient, Machiavelli could hear it in his voice. “Or are you just fond of late evening walks around the city?”

“Doctor, I can assure you this is purely a necessity. I have found over the years that discussions such as this are best to be held in an environment that discourages possible eavesdroppers. Therefore, moving while conversing is a logical way of achieving it.”

Dee let out an incredulous sigh, glancing up at the taller man with a raised eyebrow. “Am I to believe that you don’t feel safe in your own office?” He picked up his pace, falling in step beside the Italian as they turned to the silent shopping street to their left.

“You of all people should know better than to falling victim to a false sense of security, John.” A little wicked spark lit up in Machiavelli’s eyes, “Especially when one considers the fact that you are responsible for a number of invasions regarding my privacy.”

The Englishman snorted and allowed his gaze sweep over the decorated shop windows they were passing. “You are exaggerating.”

“I wish I were.”

Suddenly Dee’s feet came to a stop. Not noticing at first, Machiavelli kept his pace and managed to make it a couple of meters forward before turning to look back at the short man whose eyes were nailed to the window.

“What now?” Machiavelli asked, walking to the doctor and leaning over his shoulder in order to see what had captured his attention.

There was a wooden walking stick laid on display. The handle of it was molted with a shining silver-shade metal, made to resemble a head of a falcon. The core of it seemed to be carved from a dark wood, perhaps a variation of a oak, and the surface had been coated with lacquer. It was a fine piece of art, and the price tag attached to it supported the image.

“I need to buy that,” Dee said, taking a closer look at the skillfully crafted staff. “The price is horrendous though.”

“Nothing you couldn’t afford, John.” The Italian stepped forward as well, peering at the item in question with a critical eye. “It looks to be good quality too. Wouldn’t be terrible choice of purchase, really.”

Dee tilted his head to the side. “But it might look a bit pretentious, wouldn’t you agree?”

Machiavelli actually chuckled at that. “When has that stopped you before?” He glanced at the cane once more. “I think you could pull it off. You’ve always carried yourself with a slight showy charm.” He sent a mischievous grin in Dee’s direction, causing the shorter man to finally tear his eyes from the shop window. The doctor’s brows furrowed, and he took a few cautious steps away from the Italian.

“Are you flirting with me?”

Machiavelli’s own eyes grew wide. “ _What_?”

“Are you flirting with me?”

“Why on earth would you say that?”

With a hollow huff, Dee turned to face his companion. “You have been saying strange things like this all day long. What else am I supposed to make of it?”

“I most certainly haven’t done nothing of the sort.”

“Yes, you have. Earlier today you commented my choice of lunch by stating that ‘I did indeed have a fine taste’, and when we left the restaurant, you held the door open for both of us.”

Machiavelli couldn’t help but glance at the side. “The first part was sarcasm, and you know that.”

“Do I? And how about the time you offered to escort me back to my hotel couple nights ago?” Dee’s voice was starting to rise in volume, attracting curious gazes from the people around them. He didn’t seem to care, much less restrain himself as he carried on. “Whatever you’re doing, stop at once.” His hand lifted to brush against the goatee covering his lower chin. “It is quite worrying, to be honest.”

Machiavelli frowned. “How so? Being a decent human for a change is deemed worrying?”

“When it’s coming from you, yes,” Dee said, shrugging. “You are not a decent man by nature, Niccolò.”

A dry laugh escaped Machiavelli’s lips. “Look who’s talking.”

“Be that as it may,” Dee said and smoothed out his suit, eyes darting down, “I am going to at least take a look at that cane. You might come in as well, perhaps we’ll find something to go with that last year’s wardrobe of yours.”

Machiavelli rolled his eyes. “Hilarious.”

The crowd around them was beginning to move again, now that the situation had calmed down. They were still standing right in front of the classy showcase, and it seemed like the shop was not too busy at the moment. It wouldn’t matter if they’d receive the call while in the store, since Machiavelli could merely step aside for a minute as Dee made his purchase. They’d have to kill some time anyway, so shopping while waiting wouldn’t be a bad idea per se.

Dee was already moving to push the door of the shop open, but with a knowing smirk, Machiavelli cut him off and reached for the handle instead, waving the Englishman’s hand away with his own.

Barely sparing him a glance, Dee stepped past the threshold into the shadowy boutique. He refused to play Italian’s game, but even so he couldn’t stop himself from smiling to himself. It had been a while, after all.

Machiavelli strode in behind him, his taller frame pressing lightly against the good doctor’s back. “I’ll wait here in case you need me.”

A soft laughter ran easily in the otherwise empty shop.

“Of course you will.”


End file.
